Fantasy Football
by chloewren
Summary: An interesting game of Rangeman fantasy football.


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Fantasy Football- by Chloewren

The small paper football came sailing through the air, over my low cubicle wall. I made a startled , squeaky noise as it fell directly, with a perfect fit, into my cleavage. Instantly, I heard, from way across the office, several male voices cheer softly and clap, "yes!", " direct hit," and "Touchdown!"

Then, four pairs of gorgeous male eyes peered carefully over the cubicle wall. One blue, one green, and two dark chocolate brown. The eyes all batted their unnaturally long lashes sheepishly at me, the guys knowing that I wouldn't be able to stay mad at such gorgeous eyes. I met those eyes with a raised eyebrow and a look of feigned annoyance. They knew I would be pissed at them for making my breasts the target of their game. They would never have dared to play this game if Ranger had been in the office- or even in town, but with the cat away, well, the mice will play. I knew that none of them would ever make a move on me since they assumed that Ranger and I were together, but it was amusing to see them notice me as a female while pretending that they were only worried about protecting me.

Don't get me wrong, I felt very protected knowing that there was always at least one, sometimes two or three, of these extremely hot, heavily armed, seriously overprotective, lethal guys whose primary concern was ensuring my safety. They always treated me with respect and always tried to hide the fact that they were turned on by me. But they were all alpha-males, with excess testosterone and occasionally, well, boys will be boys.

One of those pairs of brown eyes rose directly up and became a huge, muscular thick neck, then a broad shouldered male torso, clad impeccably in muscle hugging black. Then it became- Lester. He looked around innocently and put a charming smile on his thick , luscious lips. 'Hey, Bombshell, um, did you, um, happen to see our football come flying this way?" He tried to look innocent and had to jerk his eyes back from staring directly at my cleavage.

I was glad I had decided to dress for my lunchtime diversion this morning. I had on a lace demi bra that pushed up my breasts and made them look much fuller than ever before. In fact, my breasts were pushed up to the point where my soft cream colored knit sweater barely covered them before the knit fabric flowed in a deep "V" down into a clingy skirt. I looked like a classy, upscale businesswoman with huge cleavage. My hair was in soft curls and the tons of mascara I had on made my eyes look soft and sexy at the same time. It would be the perfect look for a lunchtime diversion in a classy eatery that the latest skip frequented. The clinginess of the knit made me look slimmer than usual, making my breasts seem much larger by comparison.

The outfit had kept the guys in the Rangeman office's eyes glued to me since I had walked in this morning. In fact, they had found several excuses to walk past my cubicle to stare at my enhanced cleavage. First Lester was "getting coffee", then Ram went past my cubicle to " check the mail, then Hal walked by to get a bottle of water, and finally, Woody crept slowly past my cubicle, running a paper towel across the top, claiming he was "dusting." After each trip I heard the excited whispers of male voices as the guys had retreated to their own cubicles, talking delightedly about my cleavage, and eventually the formation of their game. For guys who are usually so quiet they startle you when they come into the room, they were being excitedly noisy. Apparently, the objective was to get the football into my cleavage. I wonder who had won.

Another huge male torso arose from the blue eyes peering over the edge of my cubicle. This torso had an even thicker neck, broader shoulders, and had on a black t shirt that probably had to be custom made to cover such broad shoulders and huge muscles. This face was more guileless, with a huge sweet smile, and the blue eyes tried to look everywhere but my cleavage- and failed. " Hi, Steph, Um, we were just,"…his face reddened, "um, our football came over this way somewhere. Have you seen it?" Hal was much better at playing innocent than Lester was, because he WAS more innocent. He came around the cubicle and pretended to look under the desk and all over the floor for the missing football, but his eyes always gravitated back to my cleavage. Lester was looking behind all the stuff on my desk pretending to search for the lost football.

Well, I could play innocent, too. " Um, no guys, sorry, I haven't seen any football." I pretended to help them look, trying not to bend over and have the sought after football fall out of my cleavage. It was quite visible in the valley between my breasts, and I knew the guys could see it, because their eyes would dart towards my cleavage and then quickly out again. I pretended not to know it was there.

Woody's dark green eyes darted toward my cleavage like metal to a magnet. It was funny to see guys who routinely stared death in the face, remained utterly calm in a shoot-out and handled assault rifles like they were extensions of their bodies become so tongue-tied and embarrassed at the sight of a woman's cleavage. Woody's huge black-clad torso brushed so close to me that I could feel the butt of his Glock against my high heel and stocking encased legs as he crawled under the desk to "look for " the football. Woody was always so sweet and protective, treating me so much like a little sister that it was amusing to see him so worked up over my cleavage, and trying to act like he wasn't.

I decided to play along and make them squirm. Lester and Hal's eyes looked like they were about to bulge out of their heads as I bent over to help Woody look, giving the guys a straight on look down my shirt at the football wedged in between my breasts. Amazingly , it didn't fall out- gotta love those Victoria's Secret demi-bras. As I bent over, the skirt runched a bit up my thigh and I think the guys were ready to burst out of their pants at the view they got of my legs- from my four inch, cream stiletto heels up my stockings , past my knee and just a bit of my upper thigh peeking out.

I heard a coughing noise and saw Ram spew water out his mouth as his deep brown eyes followed the path up my legs. His eyes darted from my legs , to my breasts, to my lips, then make eye contact with the others. Then, I saw his black clad, muscular torso standing above me, and the large mound in his pants. His hands seemed to tremble as he reached them down to grab mine and pull me gently up from the floor. Lester and Woody's eyes followed the path that my breasts made from the floor back to my office chair , as Ram helped me up and sat me down. He was visibly trying not to take in the perfect view he had of the football, wedged between my breasts just below his line of sight.

"Um, THERE's the football, " Lester said, pointing towards my breasts, as if he head only just noticed that it was inside my bra." All of the other guys were looking back and forth between Lester and my breasts. Hal spoke up. " Um, Steph, the football is , in, um…down your shirt." Hal's face was bright read and he put his hands in front of him to hide his massive erection. All the guys now stared openly at the deep v of my sweater and the football nestled between my lace clad breasts.

I followed their eyes down to my cleavage and pretended to just notice the football trapped there. "Oh, there it is. Imagine that. Of all the places for it to land." The guys eyes were glued to my hand as I wedged it into my sweater trying to get the football out. I moved my fingers around a bit and watched their eyes follow. Men were such amoebas- one brain cell- but it was dedicated.

I pulled my hand out- empty. " Sorry, guys, I can't get it out. " I'll have to go into the bathroom later and change. Unless one of you wants to get it." I knew I was being cruel to taunt them, but they had started the game. I wanted to see which of them would volunteer to get it out for me.

I was amazed that the guys were so dumbfounded by my breasts. They had seen them lots of times before. Ranger usually was the only one who got to touch them. But Lester and Ram had been with me on diversions and had the opportunity to feel me up while placing wires in my bra. So why did they look like they were about to swallow their tongues now?

Woody came up finally, grinning. "Let me help." He tried to work the football up through my sweater, but couldn't. The joke was on me as he gently reached down my shirt and into my bra. My heart started to race under the contact of his huge dark hands against my paler breasts. I felt myself get wet as his large fingers delved into the valley between my breasts, his huge hand engulfed by my cleavage. All the guys stared , almost entranced, practically drooling, at Woody's fingers under my shirt. I could feel my heart race and heard his breath catch at the contact as he finally pulled the triangular paper from the valley of my cleavage. Shit. Apparently Ranger wasn't the only one who got me wet when he did that.

I swayed a bit and had to lean against the desk for support as my knees had turned into jell-o. Guess that's what I get for playing along with their little game. Since Ranger was out of town, I guess I was going to have to use my battery powered friend to ease the ache now flowing through me. Damn, now I would have to be like this all day.

I tried to calm my racing heart and steady my breathing as the guys retreated to their cubicles, whispering loudly over the football, now apparently sacred from its contact with my breasts.

I fell into my chair and it took me another ten minutes or so before I could get my hands to stop trembling and my heart to stop racing.

I had just calmed down when I noticed it was 11:15, time to leave for the businessman's lunch diversion. I could hear the guys whispering loudly, apparently arguing over who got to go with me. Lester sauntered over, the apparent winner, ready to escort me to the diversion. I grabbed my purse and he handed me the gun I had forgotten in my desk drawer. His fingers gently grazed the small of my back as he led me out of the office, all business again. The other guys followed, our backup, since there was no way they'd let me do a diversion with less than three Rangeman there to ensure my safety. I loved the guys. They were hot, sweet , lethal, overprotective amoebas who loved football.


End file.
